The Fish

The fish finally arrived yesterday.

Back in July, at the local outdoor market, I met a man who raises fish. I returned home and suggested to the Husband that he stock our mill pond with trout. During the drought a couple of years ago, the giant Blue Herons finished off all the fish and flew off, never to return.

If I were honest, I'd admit that I really wanted the fish stocked so that the Blue Herons would return. They're magnificent birds and I found great pleasure in watching them perch in the trees on the edge of the woods every morning, scouting for their breakfast.

The Husband went into the village for the next market and struck up a conversation with the fish farmer and was quite intrigued to discover that one could also purchase Grass Carp from this man. The Husband was vexed all summer by a major growth of plants in our mill pond. The vegetation was ugly, looking nothing like Monet's ponds. The Husband had even tried dredging but that didn't work.

So, the Husband ordered a few Grass Carp. But the Grass Carp and the trout never arrived. Every time the Husband or I ran into the fish farmer, he had some excuse. One time, he told us that the carp he had saved for us were dead!

When the Husband returned from the United States in early December, he went to the market; and I guess the fish farmer, finding business slow in the winter months, told the Husband that he'd be delivering trout and Grass Carp at the end of the year.

The fish farmer had quoted the Husband a price of 235 Euros. But the Husband forgot the delivery date and didn't have enough cash on hand. Scrounging through the house for Euros, the Husband came up with 155 and told the farmer he'd bring the rest to him on market day. The farmer was in a good holiday spirit and said, "That's good enough. Have a good new year."